Poltergeist
by whomii2
Summary: [inspired by the movie Harvey] In addition to deadening his pain, maybe all the booze Reese had been consuming had finally pickled his brain. Why else would he suddenly be hallucinating a large brown rabbit named Harold? A rabbit wearing a vest and glasses, who was chastising John about his recent life choices. Maybe it was time for Reese to cut back on his drinking!


In addition to deadening his pain, maybe all the booze Reese had been consuming had finally pickled his brain.

Why else would he suddenly be hallucinating a large brown rabbit named Harold? A rabbit wearing a vest and glasses, who was chastising John about his recent life choices.

Maybe it was time for Reese to cut back on his drinking - if only to shut the bunny up!

John scowled at the rabbit and interrupted his lecture "You're rather pushy for a hallucination."

"I am not a hallucination. I am a spirit. A poltergeist to be precise" Harold said huffily.

"The only spirits here are the ones in this bottle. You're just something my mind dreamed up. Which means I'm arguing with myself."

"I resent that. And you are hardly a scintillating conversationalist in your current inebriated state. I am surprised that you can hold even one side of a conversation, let alone both"

Their argument was interrupted by the raucous laugh of the leader of a small gang that had just entered the subway car.

"Har Har Har. Look at the crazy guy talking to himself. That must be some good stuff you got there. Why not share with the rest of us?" the leader said as he strutted forward and reached for John's bottle. Harold squeaked in protest as the ruffian invaded his space. It was more a cry of outrage rather than hurt, but it still fired up John's protective instincts. John had never liked bullies, and these punks weren't going to get away with pushing around **his** bunny! He rose up to confront the others...

Four against one seemed like an unfair fight and it was, just not in favor of the four.

John sat in the interrogation room of the precinct feeling rather satisfied. He still had it! Harold seemed impressed as well, although he told John shyly that he didn't have to get into a fight on his account, it wasn't like they could really hurt him.

"Wasn't defending you. Was defending my bottle" John retorted. Harold looked unconvinced but didn't comment further. John appreciated the rabbit keeping quiet. He wasn't keen on being pegged as a crazy person by the police. The lady detective who had interviewed him had been concerned and thought maybe he had come back with PTSD or something from the war. She had been using that soothing concerned voice to talk with him – right up until she confiscated his glass and flounced off. Maybe talking to the rabbit would help him establish an insanity plea for when his prints brought up some of his previous work for the CIA. Although the Agency was likely to swoop in and take care of him once they were alerted to the fact that he was still alive. John's depressing train of thought was interrupted when the bunny chose to speak up.

"Don't worry John" Harold said consolingly. "It was clearly self-defense."

"Jail may be the least of my problems once she runs my prints."

Harold shot John a concerned look, before he got a thoughtful look on his furry face and abruptly disappeared. John felt bereft at the absence of the pushy rabbit, but barely had time to wonder about that when Harold returned – looking extra fluffy with all his fur standing on end and smelling faintly of ozone.

"What happened to you?" John demanded. "You look like you stuck a finger in a socket."

"I solved your little problem. I have, shall we say, a way with computers. All electronics really. Their search won't find any matches in the database."

Before John could question him further Carter returned and told him he was free to go. Although she urged him to seek professional help as he didn't seem to be transitioning to civilian life particularly well. John simply nodded and thanked her before making his escape as quickly as possible. He wasn't one to look a gift horse (or bunny) in the mouth.

Once he had gotten sufficiently far from the precinct to start to feel safe, John thought it was time to get some answers.

"Why are you haunting me?"

"Poltergeists don't haunt" Harold said primly. "I am here because you looked like you could use...some company."

"John appreciated the 'a friend' the rabbit had changed in that last sentence, but still felt a bit defensive. "I'm doing just fine on my own" he grumbled.

"So I see" Harold said sarcastically, while wrinkling up his nose at John's disheveled state.

"Its not easy living on the streets. Its a constant struggle. There are people a lot worse off than me out here."

"You are right." Harold apologized. "But maybe we can improve your situation."

They found a bank, where Harold demonstrated that his mojo worked as well on cameras and ATMs as it apparently did on computers. John counted the cash they had obtained and exclaimed "Harold, this may be the start of a beautiful friendship."

"I am glad you are finding my descent into grand larceny amusing" Harold snarked as he tried in vain to smooth down his fluffed out fur.

After making a stop to retrieve his possessions from where they were stashed and giving some of his windfall to Joan, who had been such a help to him, John checked into a cheap no-questions-asked motel. Leaving the rabbit to prowl the room he took the opportunity to have a good hot shower. Then a shave and a trim (Harold wasn't the only one with out-of-control hair). As he scrutinized himself in the mirror, John mused that he felt better than he had in a long time. Not his old self, but a new man nonetheless. He exited the bathroom to find Harold seated on the bed, busily pawing at an ear that had decided to flop over. John's life may have taken a turn for the quirky and strange, but it still seemed like a good turn.

Then Harold noticed his return. Giving up on his grooming he looked John over and said "You're looking much better. Although your wardrobe could use some improvement."

"Jeans and a T-shirt are a classic look. And we can't all be snappy dressers like you."

"More's the pity. Though a nice suit is appropriate for all occasions and would lend an air of –gravitas."

"Suit's ok. But no vest and no tie" John said, glaring at the rabbit.

"I'll have you know bowties are cool"

"Well at least you're not wearing a fez."

"Fezzes chafe my ears" Harold said primly.

The argument was interrupted by the arrival of room service. John took his food and joined Harold on the bed, turning on the television for something to watch while eating. After a moments thought, John dismantled his Cheeseburger Deluxe and offered a piece of lettuce to the rabbit.

"No thank you. Incorporeal spirits don't need to eat. Besides, you could use more greens in your diet."

"Potatoes are a vegetable" John said, waiving a fry in the bunny's face."

 _"Hmmph_ " Harold sniffed in reply, turning up his nose at the fry. Although John noticed that the pile of fries would get smaller whenever he was focused on the television instead of his food. After a while when all the food was gone the rabbit became restless.

"Problem Harold?"

"I am not a great fan of the 'Boob Tube' " Harold griped. "I much prefer books."

John smirked as he reached into the drawer of the bedside table and plopped a bible onto the bed by the rabbit. "Here you go. Now let me enjoy the game."

"I've read this" Harold said morosely. "And the noise from your program is too distracting."

At John's surprised look he snapped "What? You don't think that spirits might be interested in the spiritual?"

"Never really gave it much thought. But its that or the menu as there is nothing else to read in this room."

Ears pinned back in anger, the rabbit glared at the television. Hoping to prevent the only means of entertainment from dying in a shower of sparks due to a cranky poltergeist, John cast about for a change in topic. And realized that he had never really finished questioning the bunny.

"Why me Harold? Why start talking to me? And why can I see you when no one else can?"

"Intoxication makes one more susceptible to the spirit realm. More open minded. It makes it easier for me to establish contact with you. As for the why...I had to stop you."

"Stop me from what?"

"You know what" Harold said softly.

John flushed with shame. He remembered earlier how he had decided to finally end it all. When he finished his bottle and got off the subway, he was going to get his gun from his stash and put a bullet in his brain.

"You just needed a little distraction. Something to get your mind off your problems for a little while."

"Well you are certainly distracting" John said with a teasing smile.

"But that was only a temporary measure. You need a long-term solution. What you need is a purpose. You had visions of saving the world when you joined the military. But that is too big a job for one man. Maybe what you need to do is save the world one life at a time. I can help you with that."

"How can you do that?"

"Spirits are drawn to people in trouble, as well as to troubled people" Harold said as he glanced sideways at John. "Maybe you could help some of those people with their problems."

"Maybe" John said thoughtfully. They lapsed into silence, until Harold took it upon himself to lighten the somber mood by zapping the TV and changing the channel. There soon followed a competition between John's remote and Harold's electronics mojo to determine the station. Laughing John finally conceded and let the rabbit watch Masterpiece Theater, figuring it was the least he owed the other. The tedium of the show and the emotional rollercoaster of the day soon had John drowsing. He struggled to stay awake, worried that if he nodded off his new friend would be gone in the morning and John would be alone again. He mumbled a sleepy plea of "Stay" as his eyelids fluttered closed.

John finally drifted off hearing Harold's quiet "As long as you need me."


End file.
